


Conversations with Dead People

by grimorie



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/pseuds/grimorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw can see dead people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations with Dead People

**Author's Note:**

  * For [offkilter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/offkilter/gifts).



> Thanks to DEM and mlamachine for helping me bounce off ideas. All mistakes alphabetical, grammatical and numerical are mine.
> 
> The characters all belong to Jonathan Nolan and Greg Plageman's sandbox, I'm just playing with it!

Shaw can see dead people. It wasn't anything special to Shaw until her father died.

"Sometimes," the Fireman told Sameen, "people get hurt so bad they fall asleep."

Sameen considered this information and saw her father flicker behind the Fireman. He smiled at her sadly. He flickered just like all the other ghosts around her.

"You mean he's dead?"

The Fireman looked surprised at Sameen's conclusion. "I'm so sorry, Sameen. If there was anything I coulda done..."

She looked at her father. " _Darling_ ," he whispered, " _its going to be okay._ "

Because her father never lied to her Sameen knew it was going to be okay, none of the ghosts lied to her. "I'm hungry," she said, "can I have a sandwich?"

* * *

Sameen was eleven when she realized seeing dead people wasn't something people do, and she learned that even ghosts lie.

She tried to tell _maman_ about seeing her father but instead of looking happy, she looked like Sameen struck her.

The next thing she knew her _maman_ scheduled an appointment with a therapist. Dr. Crest was old and smelled like dust and cigarettes, Sameen sat on his stuffy leather that squeaked every time she moved.

It forced Sameen to sit perfectly still as Dr. Crest asked her questions, and then explained that ghosts didn't exist, that they were all in her imagination.

He told Sameen all this while an old man in blue hovered over Dr. Crest. Sameen kept getting distracted until he asked her why she wasn't listening to him, she told Dr. Crest about the man.

Dr. Crest turned ashen then red, then purple.

He began to question her in earnest, trying to pluck something out of her but the more she answered the angrier he became.

He fell silent and then he called _maman_ and they talked away from Sameen but she saw them through the glass door.

Dr. Crest gestured at her, _maman_ wrung her hands together then glanced at Sameen.

"They're talking about me."

" _Yes_ ," the old man in blue answered. He looked at Dr. Crest sadly, " _I'm sorry about Joseph_."

Sameen didn't answer. This was when she realized people preferred the lie than the truth.

The next therapist her _maman_ sent her to Sameen listened and nodded when the doctor explained to her patiently that Sameen didn't see ghosts but imaginary friends.

Since then Sameen made up two rules: Don't look at ghosts and don't talk to ghosts.

She ignored them and they began to ignore her. Time moved on.

She grew up and worked hard to become a doctor but it turned out she did have a personality disorder. On top of seeing dead people, she was also different. It was that part of Sameen that got her fired from her Residency and even if she thought the Chief Resident's reasons were bullshit Sameen took a good, long hard look at herself and went the opposite direction.

Sameen realized she was good at killing people. The trick was to kill her targets fast and painlessly. The more off guard and painless she made the kill, the easier it was for the people she killed to move on, unless they had unfinished business.

It was the spirits who lingered and stayed that made things difficult, not with her personally but in general.

The longer a spirit stayed attached to a place and not to a person, they become something else. The Chinese called them _mo guei_ , a malevolent spirit.

Shaw was an efficient killer.

If the spirits stayed, it wasn't because of her.

* * *

Her mother passed away while she was on a mission in Iran, in the central desert of Zavareh. She left Cole behind the main city since he would have stood out like a sore thumb.

His cover was a tourist and he played it up.

Their task was to gather intel and it was an easy task if everything went as planned and a nightmare if everything went to hell.

A woman alone in the desert would also call attention but not as much in the cover of dark. Shaw tightened the Chador around her. Her boots, made for desert travel, gave her traction against the shifting sand and then she heard it, a whisper in the desert night, " _Azizam_."

Cool air brushed against Shaw's skin as she turned around and then considered her mother standing on the sand dunes. Shaw felt unsteady as the sand shifted beneath her feet.

"What happened?" She asked.

" _It was quick_ ," her mother said. " _The doctor said it was... an aneurysm._ "

Aneurysm.

Shaw wondered if her mother was lying. It was a long time since she believed anything a ghost said.

"I'll take a sick leave after this," Shaw told her.

" _I always wanted to return home_ ," her mother said. " _I wanted to see the stars with you_."

"We can look at them now," Shaw said.

" _Yes._ " Her mother brushed Shaw's bangs from her face but her hands passed through her. Shaw didn't feel anything, but the wind tickled her forehead. Her mother sighed. " _I didn't know this was your job, putting yourself in danger_."

"Someone has to, might as well be me."

" _I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Sameen._ "

Shaw looked at her, "You're here now, that's important."

" _Yes, I am_." Then her mother smiled, " _While you're here, remember to remove the film from the milk._ "

Shaw rolled her eyes, "I know this. I've been in the desert before, and I'm not even that far off civilization. Also, if I remember, you lived in Tehran. You're a city girl, _maman_."

Her mother chuckled then sat down, " _Come, sit with me, Sameen. Let's look at the stars together_."

The sand was fine and it didn't bite into her skin as she sat. She hugged her knees against the cold of the desert night.

The night sky was filled with stars they wheeled above her immense and vast. Shaw was caught up staring at the innumerable twinkling stars spread before her.

The next time Shaw looked over at her mother she was gone.

* * *

They were ambushed in New York, and Cole died

Even when his ghost flickered beside her Shaw's rage couldn't be assuaged. Her anger remained a steady thread until she placed a bullet into Wilson's head, the look of shock on his face as his body fell to the floor and his spirit remained standing was almost enough to pacify her.

Then she was pissed off again when Hersh killed her.

"You were a good operator." Hersh, the bastard said, "Sorry Shaw."

His words lingered in her ears as she watched herself fall to the ground and mutter: "Son of a _bitch_."

"Sucks, huh?" Cole said.

Shaw wasn't surprised to see Cole, it made sense for him to be there. "Guess you can't get rid of me that easy, Cole."

Cole smiled at her, "You're not staying here long, you know."

"I know," Shaw answered, "dead people go somewhere else, after. I'm surprised you're still here."

"Gotta be here for my partner," then he shook his head. The EMT moved her body into the ambulance and Shaw found herself gravitating towards it. She was still chained to her body. "Also, hey, you never told me you can see ghosts!"

Shaw snorted, "How would that conversation go, exactly? 'Hey, Mike, I see dead people!' would you have believed me?"

"Yes!"

"Right."

"Okay, no, I would probably think you were drunk but I would eventually believe you."

Shaw looked at Cole, there was a lightness to him like the first time she met him. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, idealistic in a way she hadn't seen him in a long time when the weight of their missions started getting to him. Shaw should have really monitored Cole better. "Death looks good on you."

This time Cole snorted, "Thanks." He shook his head, "I'm sorry I got you involved in this mess, Sam."

They were riding inside the ambulance and Shaw stared at the body bag. Shaw shrugged and didn't say anything then looked at Cole directly, "About what you said..."

Cole smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting. "I meant it. I'd die for you any day. You're my partner. Also, how would it look if I didn't? I'm the only friend you have." The ambulance stopped and Cole looked at the driver, "This is your stop."

The driver took off his cap, and pulled down the zipper of the body bag revealing her own face.

"What--?"

"I told you, you're not staying here long," Cole said with a slight smile. The driver took out a needle and stuck it into the neck of her body.

Shaw felt the bite of the needle and touched her neck, "Atropine."

"'Til next time, partner," he brushed his lips on to her forehead. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to see you again for a long, long, long time."

There was a spasm in her chest as her heart began to beat again and she felt herself pulled into her body and the next thing Shaw knew she was gasping awake and choking someone. She felt another needle bite her skin and Shaw fell to unconsciousness again.

* * *

It was the living who carried the ghosts with them, and not the dead. The dead couldn't be bothered one way or another.

They would rather be somewhere else.

It usually took a while for Shaw to see the ghosts people carried, it took weeks before Shaw saw the person Harold carried. He was a tall man in an expensive suit, at first Shaw thought he was John's predecessor but then Shaw remembered the photo she saw of young Harold with another boy. Confident and striking.

Nathan Ingram, the founder of IFT.

John had two ghosts with him, because of course he would have.

The blonde woman Shaw saw in the photo didn't appear as often, she flickered into existence once in a while but she was slowly vanishing, and John was letting her go. John's other ghost couldn't be more different she was dark where the other woman was blonde. Angry, where the other woman looked sad and resigned.

The dark haired woman was interesting and only appeared when John's mood darkened. The way she spoke, it seemed she used to be his partner, and she was nursing a grudge.

One particular day stuck in an alcove with John watching a Number, Shaw was also stuck listening to John's ghost. The woman wouldn't leave. It usually meant one of two things, either John was in a mood or it was the anniversary of the woman's death.

She spent her time talking to John and Shaw had to admit, the woman had a way with words but she talked to John about the most depressing shit. Shaw could only take so much of the 'walking in the dark, being the dark' speech and when the woman started another variation of the same theme Shaw couldn't help but blurt out: "Don't you ever stop talking?"

"I didn't say anything," John said with a frown.

Shaw stared at John, John frowned at her. "I can _feel_ you brooding, you might as well be talking, so shut up about it."

John tapped his ear piece, "Harold, I think you need to give Shaw a day off."

" _Oh_?" Harold asked over the comms, there was a tone of amusement in his voice.

Shaw rolled her eyes, "I'm just bored, Harold, when is this Number going to do anything but sit on his desk and stare at the computer?"

John and Harold began bantering Shaw tuned them out, she could feel the ghost's stare burn at Shaw, then she walked into Shaw's line of sight. Shaw looked past her but the ghost wasn't fooled. There was a burning excitement in her eyes that reminded Shaw a little of Root's eyes when she was feeling a little psychopathic.

" _You can_ see _me!_ " Then the woman's grin grew, " _Even better, you can_ hear _me._ "

Life got really annoying after that.

* * *

When Joss died her ghost didn't linger for long, she had no unfinished business, and the remaining time she had left she spent with her son, Taylor. In Joss's funeral service, Shaw stared at Joss. Joss was kneeling next to Taylor, Shaw was too far to see but Shaw could tell Joss was crying.

As the service ended Joss lifted her head and smiled at Shaw, just like watching candle light gutter and die out, Joss disappeared in a gust of wind.

* * *

Fusco had one ghost trailing after him, and he was more of a fading memory than anything else. A bald man that had dirty cop written all over him, after Joss died he wasn't even a memory at all.

* * *

Root had far too many ghosts around her, angry ghosts that lacked energy to do anything else but snap at Root. They weren't _mo guei_. Some were already fading away because they weren't ghosts Root carried.

Except for one. A young girl, brunette and unlike all the other ghosts around Root, this one wasn't angry at Root.

She seemed sad, disappointed, even.

At first Shaw thought the girl was related to Root but when Shaw had time to study her, the girl didn't look like Root at all. Unlike other ghosts she was around Root frequently, the girl was chained to Root or Root was chained to her.

Shaw had an idea who the girl was, back when Shaw hunted after Root Shaw did a cursory background check on Samantha Groves, the town of Bishop, and the recent discovery of a body of girl a year or so ago.

In their trip to Alaska, the little girl stuck around Root. Once in a while Shaw glanced at her direction, Root would catch Shaw and look startled that she was looking.

Sometimes the girl beside Root would look at Shaw curiously.

It's been years since Shaw was last in Alaska (it was one of her first assassination missions, a bored Russian sleeper agent who was never activated and was looking for some action. Shaw put two to the head and dumped him in a snowdrift, his ghost was outraged). Root directed them into an abandoned building where a meeting between a gunrunner and a milita group will take place.

They had ample time to prepare and rig the area to their tactical advantage. The down side was they had to wait up for the gunrunners. It was damned sight colder in Anchorage than it is in New York, even if she were bundled up Shaw was thankful the central heating worked.

The girl drifted around them peering over Root's shoulder, sometimes talking to Root. Shaw would catch details of Root's childhood.

The picture the girl painted of Sam Groves was both familiar and vastly different to the woman Root became.

"You really believe the Machine's a god?" Shaw asked Root, when the girl fell back into silence.

Root was crouched under a desk doing some thing with the wires she startled at Shaw's question and the desk shook when Root bumped into the desk.

Shaw smirked.

There was a second of shifting and then Root popped up, holding on to the back of her head. "Are we talking about religious beliefs now, Shaw?"

"Its dead of night, its cold, nothin's happening. So, yeah, we're talking."

"I can think of something to occupy our time," Root said with a twist of her lips and a lift of an eyebrow.

Shaw cocked her gun, "Yeah, I could shoot you."

Root took a step back and pulled at a wire. Root actually played nice the whole trip and kept the flirting and innuendo to a minimum. "Yes, I believe She is god."

"Is god and not _a_ god?"

"Are you asking if I'm a monotheist or a polytheist?" At Shaw's raised eyebrow, Root said, "I know She didn't create the world but I believe She will remake it. She's the Future."

"You know you're freaking Harold out talking like that, right?" Shaw put the safety back on her gun. "Not exactly something that'll endear you more to him."

Root shrugged, "It's what I believe and you got over your kidnapping."

"That's 'cause I'm different and I got to clock you after."

Root smirked at Shaw, "You can clean my clock anytime."

Shaw didn't say anything and watched with some bemusement as Root winced.

"That was terrible," Shaw remarked.

It was dark but Shaw was sure Root had turned red, she glanced down at the little girl with Root. She was giggling. Shaw lifted her eyes before the girl could catch her staring.

"It sounded better in my head," Root mumbled then walked to the other side of the room. After a moment's silence, "Do you think if I let Harold shoot me, he'll be okay with me?"

"You have terrible ideas," Shaw said then continued. "You have terrible ideas and terrible pick up lines at 3AM."

Root didn't comment. The girl behind Root was on a full on giggle fest and then she looked at Shaw slyly. Shaw blinked, the girl was aware of Shaw after all.

" _She's always been bad at this_ ," the girl told Shaw, " _I just didn't notice._ "

"Are you profiling me?" Root suddenly asked, a note of curiosity in her voice. She turned to face Shaw. Shaw can see her eyes shine in the dark. "Is this what the questions are about?"

"Maybe," Shaw creaked her neck from one side to the other, looked around then slid down on the floor crossing her legs. "Or maybe I'm just curious. You're a hacker and you believe something created with ones and zeroes can be a god, what else do you believe in? Magic? Elves? Ghosts?"

"In all the time I've know you this is the most I've heard you talk," Root noted tipping head to the side.

"I get curious at 3AM."

"Do _you_ believe in magic?"

Shaw kept her eyes firmly on her face, and not at the little girl peering at her curiously. "You know what they say, more things on Heaven and Earth."

"Why, Sameen, I didn't know you were such a Mulder."

Shaw snorted, "You're calling a kettle black, Krycek."

Root's smile was broad, "Now _that's_ one other thing that wasn't in your file, you're an X-Phile."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "What time is our Number coming in?"

Root cocked her head to the side before saying, "They'll be here in two hours."

"I'll take first watch," Shaw said. "Get some shut eye." Root looked like she was going to debate the point. "Unless you want to tell me more lame pick up lines."

She heard Root huff and then slide down the wall opposite Shaw. The girl popped away and appeared near the window, and looked out. Ghosts can't slip away from the people they were chained to.

" _I always wanted to leave Bishop_ ," the girl said, and she was talking to Shaw." _I hated what happened to me or what Sam turned into but I did love that I got to see the world because of her_."

She turned to look at Shaw.

" _I think... some time soon, I can finally leave. I don't even know why I stayed, maybe because Sam was the only one who figured out what happened to me._ "

Shaw looked away from the girl, then she saw Root's eyes open, watching her. She thought Root had fallen asleep, then Root leaned her head against the wall. "I used to believe in magic."

Shaw held Root's gaze, "Go to sleep."

Root closed her eyes, and the girl appeared next to Root. Moonlight passed through the girl.

Root was already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) Azizam - Farsi for My Darling.
> 
> 2.) The title is from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


End file.
